


Almost Like Magic

by Bluesummers



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alpha Quentin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Canon Gay Character, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Eliot, Omega Verse, One Shot, Slash, first heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9533021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesummers/pseuds/Bluesummers
Summary: Quentin happens upon Eliot during his first heat, but for some reason is reluctant to act on his urges.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, another humble contribution to this wonderful yet scarce ship!  
> Enjoy!
> 
> I decided to tag the television show despite being a fan of the books since I find I enjoy reading fanfics for both.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Magicians.

 

It all started when Alice got up and announced she needed to get to the heat room. She was typically very organized and went there before the first signs of her heat showed, but this time it must have hit her a bit early, because up until that point she'd been casually reading on the carpet.

Quentin has offered to escort her there, of course, but she preferred Josh – a beta – to do it. She was probably right, too. He could already catch a hint of her smell, and it was making him edgy. Janet was also more restless than usual. Quentin was actually relieved when the two left.

Eliot, who's been standing by the window with his back to the room this whole time, silently turned and went upstairs. Quentin couldn't help but feel sorry for him. At twenty two, he hasn't presented yet. It must have been tough, even without seeing all your friends in rut.

Janet couldn't calm down, constantly sniffing at Alice's lingering smell, and soon after rushed out herself, probably in search for omegas.

And so Quentin found himself lying on the library couch with a glass of wine in his hand, all alone.  


***  
 

Eliot fought back his tears.

He watched from the second floor bedroom window as Janet went off "hunting". It's not like he was interested in her, but still, it hurt, how she would always publicly touch and tease Eliot and follow him around, yet never seriously considered him a possible sex partner. And why would she. He saw how she had eyed Alice. How Quentin had eyed Alice. No one has ever looked at him that way. The omega hadn't even displayed any visible signs, and already the two alphas couldn't conceal their brainless urges. Eliot could get people to fuck him, if he wanted to, but this was something else, a weakness and a power that he was beginning to think he'll never experience.

He raised his glass to his mouth, only to realize it was already empty. Again. He wanted to smash it.

At first, when his friends began presenting before he did, Eliot didn't even mind that much. It wasn't like he was the only one. He mainly cared about which group he'd present _as_ , when the time came. He's always been independent and assertive, he liked to lead and even felt comfortable being looked up to, so he figured the role of an alpha suited him well enough. Omegas in heat were weak and helpless, and the prospect of losing control unnerved him. Then again, a significant part of him hoped he'd end up emerging as an omega simply because… well, he wanted to get fucked. He often wondered if his desires would change once he presented. The possibility somehow made him uncomfortable.

But then everyone else was quickly presenting one after the other, and Eliot was left behind, alone. He wanted to know what a mature attraction felt like, what the smells were like, what everybody was talking about that was supposedly almost as amazing as magic. He grew scared, and possibly even worse, disgraced – everyone _knew_ about his situation. He was the entire school's go-to gossip when there was nothing better to talk about. It didn't matter anymore if he was an alpha or an omega or even a beta, just as long as he was _something_.

Eliot suddenly felt dizzy and hot. His head was swimming and a shudder ran down his back. His legs turned weak and he had to sit down. The empty glass rolled on the floor. It wasn't like him to react so strongly to one bottle of wine. What was wrong with him now?

He leaned his throbbing head against the wall and caught his reflection in the window. They were there, as always, his messed up jaw and distorted lip.

God, was he broken in fucking _everything_?

He couldn't hold back the tears any longer.  


***  


Quentin woke up with a jolt, alert and tense. He was also uneasy, like something was wrong… like he needed to do… something.

He caught a foreign smell in the air, something he's never smelled before yet was vaguely familiar. He got up from the couch and followed the trail till the staircase. It was coming from upstairs… where Eliot was. Alarm shot through him. He ran up the stairs, down the hall and into the bedroom with a spell on his lips, ready to burn any intruder to ashes.

The moment Quentin opened the door, the scent hit him. He was panting from the effort, inhaling deeply and immediately drowning in the intoxicating aroma. It engulfed him, almost blinding in its intensity, and went straight to his cock. Through it he could discern Eliot curled down on the floor on the far side of the room. He took a few steps forward, concern contorting his face, before his clouded mind registered Eliot wasn't hurt. He was in heat.

Quentin swallowed and stared.

Eliot lay there, shivering and breathless. His cheeks were flushed, sweat ran down his neck, and the back of his pants was stained with slick. He moaned weakly and turned his head in Quentin's direction.

"Q…" Eliot gasped faintly, letting his head fall back to the floor.

Quentin felt completely lost. He had no idea how to act in this kind of situation. He'd only been with a few omegas before, and never during their first heat. Wasn't he supposed to have some kind of a sixth sense, some alpha instinct that would tell him what he needed to do?

Eliot whimpered, and Quentin panicked. He didn't at all feel dominant or in control, he only felt confused and incredibly, stupefyingly horny. Maybe he presented wrong, maybe it was all a mistake and he was never meant to be an alpha. He couldn't believe himself. This was his friend – his best friend! – who needed his help and support, and all Quentin wanted to do was fuck him.

But that was what Eliot needed, wasn't it? He needed a… No, what was he thinking? He had to take Eliot to the heat room, or at least…

"I…" he started and took another step toward Eliot, "Do you… do you want me to get Janet to do it?"

At that Eliot's eyes snapped up at him, narrowed and teary at the same time. He practically spat at Quentin.

"Do _you_ want Janet to do it?!"

"No, I…"

But before he could come up with something to say Eliot let out an anguished cry and curled tightly around himself.

Responding to the omega's distress, Quentin rushed to him, kneeling down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Fresh tears rolled down Eliot's cheeks.

"I don't understand," he looked up at Quentin, his scent intensified by their proximity, "Don’t you want to fuck me?"

God, it was like fucking Eliot was all he's ever wanted. He couldn't bear how hurt and rejected Eliot was obviously feeling, and Quentin's cock was so painfully hard.

But there was also this overwhelming need to take care of Eliot, to protect him... not to take advantage of the omega's vulnerable situation.

What the fuck was he supposed to do?  


***  


Eliot was experiencing the worst distress of his life. He tried crying, he tried evoking guilt, he even tried enhancing his scent, though he wasn't sure he succeeded. And still, Quentin barely even touched him. He just sat there with his hand on Eliot's shoulder like some old nanny.

What kind of an omega was he if he couldn't get an alpha to fuck him?

He decided to act, be the one to initiate contact, but all he managed was a pathetic twitch on the hard floor. He was so damn weak, his limbs felt like weights, pulling him down. All he could do was lie there, trembling and wanting, with his thighs wet with slick, and hope someone else would agree to help him.

No. He tried to move again, forcing his arms to shift and bend and hold his weight, and collapsed right into Quentin's arms. The alpha immediately enveloped him, held him close to his chest, and Eliot breathed in his strong smell. He didn't want him to let go.

"Please…" Eliot tried, as whiney and as needy as he possibly could, pressing his face against Quentin's torso. "Please, Q…"

Quentin sighed, the small movement vibrating against Eliot's cheek. He felt himself being cradled and lifted, and was suddenly terrified that Quentin was going to take him to the heat room.

He saw the Brakebills heat room once, a cold, jail-like place where desperate omegas were confined to small booths and handed basic dildos. As awful as it seemed, Eliot was so helpless he didn't even think he could use a dildo right now.

But Quentin didn't take him to the heat room. Instead, he laid him down on the bed and slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"Okay," he said, looking at Eliot like he actually needed any further approval at this point.

Eliot nodded, using the opportunity to openly stare at Quentin's clothed erection. More fluids ran down his legs. He wanted it. Wanted to rip off Quentin's clothes and see it. Needed it deep inside him. Quentin's cock was all he could think of. That, and how impossibly long it was taking him to strip Eliot.

Finally, Quentin got to his pants. He peeled them off his waist, down his sticky thighs and all the way off, and then gently removed his soaked underwear. For a moment Quentin just stood there, taking in Eliot's body, before reaching for the hem of his own shirt.

At long last, Eliot felt some sense of relief.  


***  
 

Looking at Eliot's exposed lean, long body, Quentin couldn't help but feel self-conscious at his own nakedness. That feeling was gone, however, as soon as he saw the raw craving Eliot was eyeing his cock with, like it was the only thing he _could_ see. Fuck, he wanted to give it to him.

He climbed onto the bed and reached for Eliot's knees, but there was no need – the omega eagerly spread his legs wide open for Quentin, baring himself to him. Instead, Quentin placed his hands on Eliot's thighs and licked along the soft skin, tasting his liquids.

He could still barley believe this was happening. Nibbling at Eliot's inner thigh, he closed his eyes and reminded himself that he had to demonstrate self control, that he needed to be gentle. If this was really up to him now, then he had to make it feel good. His friend's first heat couldn't possibly become a traumatizing experience of an alpha mindlessly fucking him.

So he circled a finger around Eliot's drenched entrance, and slowly pushed inside, curling and pumping.

Eliot huffed.

"God, Quentin, just fuck me already! It's not like I'm a fucking virgin!"

For a moment, Quentin froze. Then his mind turned so hazy and his stimulated body moved so quickly, the next thing he knew he was sheathed deep inside Eliot, his teeth buried in the omega's neck and a low growl rumbling in his throat. He slowly registered how his hands were forcefully gripping Eliot's slender waist, how tight Eliot's warmth was, how he could taste blood on his tongue.

Horrified, he released Eliot's neck and turned to look at his face.

Eliot's head was thrown back, eyes tightly shut and mouth hung open in ecstasy.

Letting out the breath he's been holding, Quentin smiled and ran his fingers through Eliot's damp soft hair. He knew the older boy had experimented, but while it was pretty rare for anyone to engage in any sexual activity before they presented, it was almost unheard of to have actual intercourse. Quentin wondered if Eliot had given up all hope years ago.

When Eliot opened his eyes, Quentin quickly averted by apologetically lapping at the bite marks he'd left on his neck. He was pleased to hear the omega's soft moan. Brushing his fingers over Eliot's waist, he slid almost all the way out, then firmly grabbed the slim hips and thrust back in.  
 

***  
 

Sex has never felt this good. Quentin's thick hardness filled him, grazing his inner walls and sending delightful sensations throughout his body, all the way to his fingertips. Every thrust of the alpha's cock hit him with wave after wave of hot tingling bliss, threatening to drown him.

Eliot yearned to touch Quentin, to make him feel good, too. He wanted to run his hands over Quentin's chest, scrape down his back, tangle his fingers in that long thick hair… But he was still feeble and powerless, his arms useless and leaden, fingers barely strong enough to clutch the sheet. He couldn't even wrap his legs around Quentin's waist – the alpha actually had to do that for him as well.

Panic was taking hold of him again. The pleasure was still there, but he had no control over it. No control over anything. He was becoming desperate for it all to end, to just come already and go back to being his usual self. But it won't end. His heat will go on for days.

Eliot didn't know if his unbearable frailty was due to all the alcohol he consumed that evening, or because this was his first heat, or if it will always be like that, every time, for the rest of his life.  


***  
 

The boy beneath him was clearly in agony. He was whimpering and whining, with passion but also with pain. There was a trace of fear in his scent. Quentin must be doing something wrong. He couldn't help but think about what will happen when Eliot's heat was over, when the omega realized Quentin hadn't been able to look after him. What will Eliot think of him then?

Quentin halted. He put his arms around Eliot's shoulders, as close to an embrace as the situation allowed, and took the omega's nape in his hands. This was it. He needed to take control, to prove himself to Eliot.

"Shh now," he said with his most reassuring tone, "it's just your first heat, it'll get better," he ran his thumbs over the other's cheeks, "you've got an alpha to take care of you, it's alright."

To Quentin's utter shock, Eliot went quiet, gazing up at him with unfocused eyes, and relaxed into his touch. He could pick up on the alteration in Eliot's smell, too.

So, slowly rocking his hips, Quentin kissed along Eliot's crooked jawline and whispered in his ear. "I'm going to continue fucking you now. Be a good omega and leave everything to me."

Eliot's reply was a low moan.

Quentin's hands moved down the omega's body, over his nipples and ribs and stomach and back to his waist, tilting it up so that he could go faster and deeper. And Eliot… Eliot was amazing. His drawn-out groans filled the room, his pale cheeks and chest were beautifully flushed, and drool was running out of his parted lips.

And somehow Quentin could tell when something felt especially good for the omega, when he was thrusting at just the right angle or nipping on a particularly sensitive spot in his neck. He knew it wasn't thanks to him, either. It was all Eliot. The alpha was responding to his scent in a way he's never experienced before. It was almost as if Eliot was dominating him through it.  Quentin didn't think it was intentional, but it made him feel confident, and it was so, so hot.

"You're doing so well, I'm so proud of you" he breathed in Eliot's ear, nibbling and licking, then picked up his pace and sank into the omega over and over again.  


***  
 

There was no stopping his writhing and moaning as he lay back and let the alpha devour him, surrendering himself to the feeling of being roughly pounded into, taking in the wet slapping sounds. Eliot couldn't believe how amazing it felt to submit like this. Quentin filled him completely, his cock in his ass and his words in his ear, telling him how well he was doing and what a good little omega he was being. And with every shove, every whisper, Eliot's world turned hotter and tighter.

Quentin bit down on his neck and sucked, and Eliot's sore throat let out another cry of pleasure. "That's right," the alpha ordered, "let me hear you."

Oh, he loved it. To let go, to be praised, controlled, even humiliated. And Quentin's demanding tone was so arousing it was painful. Tears ran down his face. He was going to come.

Lips pressed against his as Quentin delved his tongue deep into his mouth. Desperate to please his alpha, Eliot allowed Quentin to take control and explore his lips and teeth and tongue. It was sloppy and awkward, but urgent and full of need. And when Quentin pulled back, he was staring down at Eliot with such raw, primal lust that the pleasurable pain in his core became unbearable.

He came forcefully, spasming and throatily sighing, draped in pure euphoria. Quentin's hips locked into his and as strained as Eliot was he couldn't help his delighted moans as the alpha emptied his thick cum inside him again and again, filling him up.

Then Quentin collapsed on top of him and all he could hear was the other's heavy panting mixing with his own as they waited out the knot. Eliot shut his eyes in completion. The alpha's weight was reassuring, and Eliot shook once more with the aftermath of his orgasm.

For now, at least, he felt better.  


***  
 

The two lay there, still connected, warm and satisfied and lost in bliss.

 

Eliot was the first to move, if only a little. He squirmed under the alpha's weight, and the other pulled out and rolled over, still attentive to any shift in the omega's mood.

Breathing freely, Eliot's head fell to the side and he spotted a forgotten pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. It took all of his freshly regained strength, but he managed to crawl back and sit up against the headboard, reaching for a smoke as airily as his trembling hands allowed.

"Thanks," he let out indifferently, curtly nodding at Quentin before leaning back and snapping his fingers.

 

Quentin rested his head on his arms as he regarded Eliot's little display of independence. It was hard, watching the omega's obvious struggle to move on his own, and when Eliot used magic to light up his cigarette Quentin's body practically screamed at him to get up and do it himself. But he figured Eliot needed to feel autonomous right now, so he did nothing. He let his gaze wander downward, to the cum spilling out from the omega's hole onto the sheet and down his shamelessly parted thighs. _His_ cum.

He thought back on the way Eliot's scent influenced him during sex, how he was telling Quentin what he wanted without saying a thing. Did Eliot even realize what a powerful omega he turned out to be? When he did, he was so going to use that against everyone. Quentin chuckled just imagining it.

"Why are you laughing?" Eliot asked, brow furrowed, as he blew out smoke.

Quentin took the opportunity to move closer to him.

"Because I want to do that with you next time, too. Every time. Whenever you need me to."

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, he smiled and went in for a kiss.

 

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Just a brush of the lips. Eliot tried to remember if he's ever been kissed like that before. He took a drag off his smoke.

"You do realize next time's going to be very, very soon."

He studied Quentin, who laughed again for no apparent reason.

"That's fine," he promised with another kiss.

Knowing Quentin was going to be there for him made Eliot feel safe and protected. He silently scolded himself for such silly sentiments, but the comforting thought of the powerful alpha staying with him and fucking him all through his heat was stronger.

He allowed himself a laugh too.

 

Quentin couldn't stop smiling. There was nothing he wanted more than to stay in that room with Eliot and take care of his every need. He ran his fingers over the marks he'd left on the omega's neck and chest. He wanted the other Physical Kids to see those marks, wanted them to hear Eliot's cries and moans for days straight and know the omega was his to fuck. The thought made his heart swell with pride.

Eliot smirked at him.

"Then go grab us some snacks and lock the door."


End file.
